


Semantics

by LuckyDiceKirby



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, What am I doing, boyfriendleaders, quadrant shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyDiceKirby/pseuds/LuckyDiceKirby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Jake English, and you never did really get a good handle on the whole quadrant system.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Semantics

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the quadrant shenanigans in the John/Karkat askblog [boyfriendleaders](boyfriendleaders.tumblr.com), which is absolutely perfect in every way and everyone should go read it.

Your name is Jake English, and you never did really get a good handle on the whole quadrant system.

“I’ve only explained it you approximately, oh, how many times is it now?” You’ve been dating for about six months and Dirk has, of course, found many opportunities to harp on about the stupid quadrants. The man does love to talk about his troll culture. Maybe for his birthday you’ll get some of the trolls together and have them start a club.

“Don’t you dare bring the AR and his tomfoolery into this so you can get an accurate count,” you say. “I might try to start up something black with him, and how would that make you feel, old fellow?”

“Pretty accomplished, if I’m being honest,” Dirk says. “I know how overwhelming the Strider charm can be, but I don’t think having two different versions of the same consciousness in both concupiscent quadrants is healthy. But what do I know?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Has anyone ever told you how much of a goshdarned friggin’ smartass you can be?”

“That’s what I have Roxy for.”

“So is that the point of moirallegiance? To take you down a peg? I suppose I can see where that would come in handy, come to think of it!”

“No,” Dirk says, longsuffering, “it is, to summarize, a mutually grounding relationship, wherein both parties keep each other from taking acrobatic fucking pirouettes off their respective handles. Which of course you already know.”

“But isn’t that just what best bros are supposed to do for each other?”

“You offerin’ to be my moirail, English? I hate to break it to you, but I think we’ve passed that point by now.”

You roll your eyes. For all that you love him, Strider sure can be a pain in the behind when he wants to be. “Oh, come on, you know that’s not what I mean. I just don’t get how you can restrict your…moirail-izing to only one person! I have just tons and tons of friends, and I wouldn’t let any of them make any crazy fucking pirouettes off of any handles if I could help it!”

“It’s deeper than that. It’s not just talking someone down when they’re on the verge of tears—it’s making sure they never get to that point in the first place. And in return, they do the same for you. Hence the mutually beneficial part. It’s a big commitment, and you can’t possibly keep track of more than one person that way.”

“Well, I suppose. You and Roxy seem happy, so who am I to judge? But kismessitude just seems like it does more harm than good.”

“Not necessarily. It’s a healthy outpouring of aggression, in such a way that it helps both parties grow as people.”

“So basically it’s just hatesex but with a self-help book?”

He pushes his glasses down his nose to give you a look across the kitchen table. His eyes are always quite striking, and you’re never sure if it’s the color or the fact that you don’t get to see them all that often. Only when the two of you are alone, and it that isn’t the sweetest fucking thing then by golly, but you don’t know what is. “That is a vast oversimplification and if I were a troll, I would be offended at your cultural insensitivity.”

“Psh. I think you’re way more invested in this sort of thing than most of the trolls are, being the friggin’ pedantic douche that you are.”

He puts a hand over his heart. “Your words,” he says, deadpan as ever, “they wound me.” He swoons a bit, too, for effect. Perhaps your attempts at educating him in the ways of proper cinema have finally helped him develop a sense of drama and panache! 

Or he’s just being an insufferable prick. That too.

“They had better wound you, Strider! You’re seriously telling me you’re on the hunt for a kismesis?”

“Not at all,” he says easily. That smug way he has of just letting words roll of his tongue like they aren’t anything at all is so annoying. You wish you could talk like that. “I’m simply trying to get your input on the situation for future reference. If you’re not cool with it, just say so. I can live without anything in my black quadrant.”

You bite your lip. You suppose that’s not really fair to him, is it? He grew up in a troll-based society. It’s not that it would be cheating, exactly, it’s just… “I still don’t understand what the point is. Why can’t you just be rivals, or archenemies?”

“Contrary to what you may think, life is not actually a movie. It’s a completely different situation. Kismessitude isn’t exactly what you would think of as hate. Black romance isn’t about wanting to destroy someone, it’s about wanting to fight them, prove you’re stronger than they are. It’s about having someone who gets under your skin, like an itch, and the only way to scratch it is by beating their face in and showing them how much better you are.”

“I have to admit, that doesn’t exactly sound like my idea of a good time.”

“Well, of course not,” Dirk says, an edge of a smile threatening to actually make itself known on his face. “You’d be a terrible kismesis.” 

You cross your arms. “Now what’s that supposed to mean?” you demand.

“You don’t even fully understand how blackrom works. Of course you’d be terrible at it.”

“Maybe I’d be a natural! Don’t be so quick to judge, I could just absolutely knock your socks off!”

“Jake. Are you propositioning me? Again? In a different quadrant?”

You haven’t really thought this through very much. Or, well, at all. But whatever! It’s Dirk’s job to plan things. And when has a true adventure ever started with planning? ”Sure! Why the heck not?” 

Dirk just shakes his head. “Sorry, bro, no can do.”

“Oh, so you’re willing to entertain the possibility of canoodling with a kismesis, but I’m not good enough for the job? Is that it?” You stand up and plant one hand in the middle of the table, leaning over in what you hope is a menacing manner. 

He actually smiles at you. Small victories. Wait, no, weren’t you trying to prove you could be good at hatemance too?

God, but if Dirk doesn’t confound you, even at the best of times.

“It’s nothin’ wrong with you, although again, a decent understanding of a caliginous relationships is kind of necessary to actually have one. You think I could ever actually hate you? Really?”

“I certainly don’t see why not!”

“English, I have been flushed for you since I was thirteen years old. So flushed. Completely head over heels. It’s fucking embarrassing. The whole hate thing ain’t gonna happen with us.” He says it in the same tone he says everything else, but of course it’s so bone-achingly sweet you have to lean down and kiss him. Yeah okay, so maybe your black solicitations were a little far-fetched. Just a teensy smidge.

“So to clarify,” you say, after a moment, “you’re not going to leave me for some capricious hate-fling?”

He pulls off his shades and lays them down on the table. “Not gonna happen. You’re stuck with me, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“I guess that’s all right, then. Feel free to deal with your caliginous quadrant howsoever you see fit!”

“You sure? This is all strictly theoretical at the moment, anyway.”

You shrug. “Why not? Watching you strife with someone other than me might be fun for a change. I could actually get to watch some real life fisticuffs in action!”

“I’d still kick their ass.”

“Oh but of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you say, with a grin. “You certainly kick mine often enough, and geez, you actually like me! Some chum you are.”

“That’s another reason you’d make a terrible kismesis. Some rival you’d be, when I can beat you so easily. And I don’t think I’d ever be able to actually hurt you without hating myself. Just not meant to be, I guess.”

“I’m on to you, my man. Insulting me and complimenting me in the same breath? You certainly know how to leave a chap reeling! Are you sure you haven’t got any lingering black sentiments for me?”

Dirk raises an eyebrow. “Pretty sure, yeah. And I know of a couple other ways to leave you reeling.”

“Oh really?” You try to raise an eyebrow back, but you’ve never been able to do one without also doing the other.

He stands, and pulls a couple movie tickets out of his back pocket. They’re to the newest action flick, which you’re sure he won’t enjoy at all, despite how absolutely brilliant you know it’s going to be. Dirk can be such a stickler when it comes to movies. What’s good plot and character development worth if it hasn’t got any pizzazz?

“My prince,” you say, pretending to swoon. He catches you and dips you, because he is a complete tool. But he buys you popcorn at the movie and only spends half of it making snide comments, so you suppose you can forgive him.


End file.
